In Spain it is tradition to buy your friends dinner on your birthday. I am not Spanish but sometimes I wish I were. In my family my mom would make sure she had a present for the child whose birthday it was not. So on January 27th my brother would blow out the candles and unwrap a mountain of gifts: one year a new Redliner bike, Atari, an adidas tracksuit another year, a Gumby doll. And then my mom would hand me my present: Pokey. My brother would be in his room playing asteroids and making the sound effects himself, beeoouuuuup, beeouppp, beeeouuuuup! Rocking the three nylon stripes and I’d be sitting there on the floor bending the legs of the little orange horse that nobody ever wanted.
Tomorrow I turn 36. Upper mid-thirties. This morning I noticed that the face lotion I use is called ACCEPT. What marketing genius thought of that brand positioning? Because oh honey, I just don’t think so. So here is your Pokey, an unbirthday giveaway. Tell me why I am not old and I will send you a real fossil. Seriously.
Hands off the nipple clamp, ma petite, you don't get the s&m.
This is an ammonite, 350 million years old, from the Devonian era, I believe. Ammonites are thought to have lived in the open water of ancient seas; this particular specimen was found in Morocco. It measures roughly 6.5” in diameter, looks stunning on a mantle and likes long walks on the beach. Plus, just by having it you will look smarter.
One year ago today I started this blog, a birthday present to myself. (You would be able to read that first post if I hadn’t deleted my own blog a few months ago, but that’s another story altogether…) I started this blog with a Langston Hughes poem:
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore--And then run? Does it stink like rotten meat? Or crust and sugar over-- like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
And here I am a year later, my dream still not yet realized but not entirely deferred anymore either. This blog has given me more than I ever thought it would: an outlet, an inspiration, a friend. You have all given me that. And so I offer this present as a way of saying thank you. Thank you for listening, for reading, for everything. Thank you for my blog. Thank you for keeping me from exploding.
Please leave me a comment (not an email! A comment in the comments section of this post) telling me why 36 years does not a fossil make. The comment that makes me laugh the hardest or convinces me that I am still 25 wins the ammonite. I will read all comments after 5pm on Monday night and will announce the winner on Tuesday. Please check back on Tuesday and if you’re the winner email me and give me your address and I’ll send you this unbirthday present. From me to you. Not a Pokey but a fossil. Don’t try to bend its legs. It doesn’t have any.
Again, thank you all. Happy Birthday, Happy UnBirthday. Just Happy.
50 comments:
Ok, you are killing me. Seriously. I'll let your other blog friends stew on this for a while, and anyway, I know where you live. If I wanted your old shell, I'd just swipe it.
The truth is, you don't look at day over thirty so your Accept cream is doing something.
Love,
Rosalie
Susannah,
We all love your blog - your readers are many ages as YOU WELL KNOW, and you keep me young, however keep your damn fossil, my spectacles make me look as smart as I'll ever look.
Hey, try the Accept on that fossil, it looks as though those skin imperfections may actually hurt.
Anywho, Happy happy birthday to you! You will never age - we don't really get much older that we were at say 21, not deep inside.
in a mere 23 days I'll rock this 1/2 century in ...I mean, I'll quietly turn 50. HA! I may have to be drugged, and kick and scream all the way there, but you can't stop the hands of time and it's just going to happen. I didn't know our birthday's were so close together. Have a great time at the beach.
-Jackee
A birthday present to yourself – I love that. I remember that first post, back when Erin sent me your link about her wonderful friend the wonderful writer and her new blog. You have had quite a year and I thank you for sharing it. You want proof you are as young and fabulous as ever? You can rock a bad Supercuts haircut, your High School boyfriend is still in love with you, you have great taste in clothes, shoes and coffee tables but most of all….you produced the most beautiful little girl on the planet. Have an amazing birthday weekend and cheers to living your dreams at any age!
xo
Robin
I don't haven anything to make you laugh, but your ACCEPT lotion made me pee my pants a little (and I just had my bladder fixed!). Heppy Birthday, Girl, and 36 isn't all that bad.
and jeez, I am one bad m.f. typist.
Last month i turned 45,and a couple days later we went out to eat with relatives. At the end of the meal, out comes a cake with numbers 4 and 5 candles(procured by my mother)- embarrassing to begin with, but then my 9 year old looked at the cake and said"mom,are you 54???"
Seriously though-it's just a number. I still don't even feel like a grown up most of the time.
Cheers!
I don't really have anything witty to say since I will be facing the same number come November. Though there are days that I still feel like I am playing at being a grown up, but then on of my 5 kids calls me MOM and I know I really am.
You aren't old because that would mean in just a few short years I will be old. If your old then my dreams of having a family in my mid to late thirties are just shot to hell. I can't have my dreams shot to hell so I'm declaring you 25 again if for no other reason than I'm just selfish.
Have a great birthday and make sure to eat cake. What good is a birthday without cake?
Susannah you are young and gorgeous and one more year is just one more year. It is just a number anyway! I've been reading your blog almost the whole time you've been writing it and you have made me laugh and cry and think and you partially inspired me to start my own little blog.
Love the name of your face cream, take its advice. Accept who you are right now. I'm 45, as of last week, and I don't feel a day over 25. Its only my face that gives it away for me... I need me some of that cream.
Happy Birthday from one of your more mature readers!
Melanie
Hey you young chick!! I celebrated double nickels last saturday the 23 rd - you are YOUNG!! Fifty Five is old, fifty-five is menopause, belly fat, wiggly jiggle thighs, crow's feet, grey hairs you try to cover up, memory loss, and not as much sex!!! Do you feel better now!! Happy Birthday!!
Happy Birthday...best of life!
Truly, age is most of all how you feel...your blog is wonderful and nothing more than 25 plue a day! I look forward to reading it everday - you are so funny. Imagine what you'll be like at 50 (at least 25 years from now!)
Enjoy your birthday weekend. I, among many, are so glad you were born!
Happy Birthday Susannah! You make me laugh everyday. You are a wonderful writer. I think I need to get some of the ACCEPT lotion, 'cuz I have been in denial since 40 and that was 8 years ago.
As your Mom, I was going to take myself out of the running for the Fucking Fossil-nepotism and all. However, it seems that NOBODY wants your fossil anyway. I would be sadder for you and a LOT more funny about why you're not old...but then you just had to out me on the Pokey you ungrateful child whose birthday it WASN'T!
Everyone, Attention, gather round 'cause I've got a birthday something to tell about Sus. I have NEVER seen anyone, anywhere who is SO deeply into her Birthday! She's pretty much like that about all Holidays but her BIRTHDAY.... well step back and take a deep breath because many years ago, somewhat in the tradition of her Dad, Susannah's B'Day began to be known as "High Holy Week". One day, no matter how much the fun, presents or fanfare, was just not sufficient-still isn't. In Happy Valley where my sweet one resides much of the time, Birthdays trump almost everything else. So, prepare for the event which kicks off at midnight tonight. Sus, what do you want to do for your B'Day?
As to potions and lotions, i.e., ACCEPT...be warned there are peptides, polypeptides, oils from plants and trees never heard of before where even the people standing under said tree age not a minute. There are brighteners, collogen repairers, retinoids, acids, placentae even stem cells-anti-aging miracles of all kinds and strengths...all bottled and all costly...all promising to keep you unlined, radiant and youthful for all eternity. "60 is the new 40" and all that shit. Well, for me, my "ACCEPT" started with potions from one famous plastic surgeon, then another and...now I have a large wooden salad bowl products piled high on a special table by my bedside-overflowing with all the youth-in-a-jar promises. I faithfully, well usually (because I always remember the poison drug that is the gateway to never dominant gene lurking) use many of these in special order every night. And, you know, one, some, all of them actually seem to be helping. Beware, now I don't have a clue which if any work or in what combination, so I am stuck with a salad bowl full and a nightly hold-back-the-years ritual that takes so long, I age as I'm doing it-plus I routinely have to re-finance the house to afford them all! Sus, my dearest, your ACCEPT is the slippery slope to a salad bowl and extra bedside table-just remember I warned you.
You don't need it! We are all only as old/young as we feel-and that varies day to day. You are beautiful now, you will always be beautiful because in addition to superficial looks, your soul is shining sweet. Love you, Mom-and work me into High Holy Days schedule for mucho B'Day celebrations!
You don't really want to be 25 do you? Young -- yes, but insecure, self absorbed and ridiculously vain (ok, maybe that was just me!)
PLUS you didn't have Zoey.
PLUS you still get to look 25.
Methinks you have it all.
happy almost-birthday my friend, now where can I get my hands on some Accept miracle creme?
Well, uh, .... see ....your mother and I didn't really want to tell you this .... thought we were being kind and all. Sort of give you a leg up in those difficult beginnings, so to speak.
Actually, Susannah, you are really 43 .... but that's okay. We still love you.
You know you got that fossil at Pottery Barn.
Happy Birthday, Hot Momma!
XO~Z
I'm pretty sure your thigh is as big as my wrist, and that trumps the 3 months of 35 I still have over you.
Happy Birthday. :)
Oh. My. God! HEJ, you promised...we made a solemn pact of silence yea those 43 years ago NEVER to speak again of......you, know....this! I can just not believe that, after all these years, after the agony we went through making our decision to "alter" Sus' history, that now, of all times-what with ACCEPT being in the picture and all, you TOLD! Deny, Deny, Deny...and that's all I'm going to say. Shame on you!
Hey, it could be worse. You could be a 36-year-old who tight-rolls her jeans.
(unless you do. If so, DAMN. No lotion's gonna fix that.)
I love your blog, it's like buttah. Happy Birthday!
I heard some Hollywood celebrity say (so of COURSE, it must be true) that 50 is the new 30. If that's the case, they you should be studying thisverymoment for your driver's test. And wondering who will be your first kiss in the back seat. Should you stuff your bra? Maybe not. It might rain and then you'd have some explaining to do...
Um, About that fossil...I'd like to vote for your parents. They're trippy.
What the fuck people? I try to give you a present and you mock it? It's NOT a shell! It's NOT from Pottery Barn! It's a fucking fossil and it's cool as shit!
Now. I'm trying to give a gift for my fucking birthday. So if anyone wants it, and if you're not too afraid to ultimately give me your shipping address after this rage-y comment, please: speak up.
Feeling like a 36 year old loser (but loving you all anyway).
Susannah
First of all - I KNOW that 36 isn't old because I turned 36 in April. So far it's been treating me well - I highly recommend it.
I think I even look a bit younger than I did a couple of years ago. Of course the Cindy Crawford infomercial skin care system I was brainwashed into buying may be helping...
But products aside - I think that as long as you don't fall prey to those awful suburban mommy trends like crocs and Lily Pulitzer ensembles - you probably have a few youthful years left in you.
BIG PRINT. GET USED TO IT.
YOU KNOW MY ADDRESS.
i hear that 36 is the new 29--
you're not old because you use the "f" bomb like a pro and it takes some serious truk driver skillz to do that. plus i'm mormon and i don't get to see it in print too often, so it makes my day.
i enjoy lurking on your blog. please don't delete it again.
my god your Mom and Dad crack me up!!... your whole post cracks me up, and is my favorite blog ever!!
Susannah I think you are great, beautiful, smart and have a wonderful husband and daughter. Age is just a number...look at that fossil...it's HOW old and it's still cool.I just turned 41 and will never wear crocks and I still cruise around in my Mustang like I'm 20....Sometimes I look in the mirror and know it ain't getting any better...but WTF.
i've been trying to think of something witty all day when what i was really thinking was "cool fossil! i need it for my collection of stuff in the studio" but i thought writing that might make me dorkier than i'd like to appear.
anyway, have a great b-day! i do believe you're not old because you are actually admitting you have one and what age you are, something that ladies aren't supposed to do. i just realized i may have just said you're not a lady. but maybe they mean lady as in old lady and not classy lady? i'm not getting any closer to getting the fossil am i?
l
Still don't want the fossil. Still think your Dad should have taken our secret to his grave. Still commenting too often, too long. But...
We were in your car about a year ago talking (or perhaps per usual, I was the one talking) about how strange it is when I know I'm never going to see 62 again yet I still feel young inside most of the time. I said that I was frequently shocked and surprised to remember how old I really was. You asked me exactly what age I felt. I think your question's subtext was, "What age did I think of as my prime." I remember thinking what a good question it was and that I needed to answer it quickly to get to the truth before over-thinking it. I blurted out,
"36." My mid to late 30's were the years when I felt I looked my best, felt my best, had enough wisdom to not feel like a twit yet not really feel mature. There was a sense of excitement, adventure....in short, my "best" age. Ironic? Or just Mom blabbing on too much-again? Here you are coming up to my "perfect age" and feeling "old".
Looking at you now, your beauty, your life, the way you're balancing working for the man with your passion and incredible talent which we all know is your writing, Zoey the world's most perfect child (accident? I think not.), having a fantastic husband-almost your childhood sweetheart-and still being "in love" with each other, still laughing together like you're in High School....could it possibly get any better? You're still a few dozen potions away from a salad bowl full with your lone, Accept.
In my humble but not brief opinion, your biggest problem now is....WHO gets the Fucking Fossil!
It's 2:15 a.m. THE 30th of August. Happy Birthday my precious....and PERFECT right now, Daughter! I love you more than even I have words to say. And, BTW folks, Miss Sus is totally booked with Birthday fetes every day of this long Holiday weekend (and No, it is NOT honored as Labor Day because of your birth!). She is working me in next weekend...somewhere towards the end of High Holy Week!
I want to know what's in the salad bowl.
I agree with most of the comments I have read here. Your blog is warm, real and funny, you are still young and beautiful, and your parents are a riot.
However, I have to take exception to the Croc bashing going on--I say to the people who hate Crocs--have you tried 'em? They feel wonderful. Maybe they are a gateway drug to middle age fashion atrocites, but if so bring it on baby. I like the way a spiffy pair of neon orange crocs livens up a fanny pack and a pair of high waisted Lee jeans.
Ps--age is such a subjective thing...most 46, 56, 66 year olds would love to be 36 again. Enjoy it!!
Oh Susannah, a fellow virgo! My b'day is September 4th. What you might want to consider is going BACK in years, which is what I'm doing. I've chosen, this year, to turn 27 again. I enjoyed that year immensely and feel that 27 is far more appealing than the number I'm currently faced with.
Sometimes I want to just scream GET OUT OF MY BRAIN to you! Now I understand why. A virgo! Yes, yes, it all makes sense. Have a fabulous birthday, my friend. With your lovely life and GORGEOUS child, this is one worth celebrating:)
Mwah!
Fossils (from Latin fossus, literally "having been dug up") are the preserved remains or traces of animals, plants, and other organisms from the remote past.
Susannah=Not a fossil
I totally agree with Judy. I feel relieved that my 20's are behind me, although I would kill to have my twenty-something body back. I had my Zoe when I was 24, so only the body before that. And the fossil? Well, no mocking, no mocking at all. Only trying to make you laugh and I'm sorry if I contributed to your rage, although Rosalie started it. :) Any one of us (except Judy) would love the fossil. While a gift from our clever, analytical, looks-younger-than-36 blog friend that doesn't hold anything back is appreciated, I'm sure everyone would agree with me that you have given us more than enough already by letting us peek into your lovely Petunia Faced world.
Life is too wonderful to worry about numbers and creams. Enjoy your happy, happy day.
~Z
I have no witty words of wisdom but wanted to wish you a very happy birthday! May you live a long, healthy and unanxiety-ridden life!!
Happy birthday, PF. Better keep that fossil around so you can convince Zoey that you aren't quite as old as dirt.
Here's my birthday tribute. [Sorry about posting the bad haircut shot -- believe me, I got a MUCH WORSE haircut today.]
Hope you have a great Birthday Week.
I still think your mom and dad should get the fossil.
Oh, I'm sorry, I meant:
I STILL THINK YOUR MOM AND DAD SHOULD GET THE FOSSIL.
Proof positive, yet again....and again that I:
a) can't stop "talking",
b) have no life-it IS a Holiday weekend Saturday-and what am I doing...?
c) always take names of anyone who bestows me with a complimemnt (Thank you very much Melissa, Zachary, crabapple, Pati-my new BFF),
d) know that Sus is way out on a beach without access to a computer-thus I can run rampant on the Comments for a while,
e) know what you should do with the Fucking Fossil!
Since I do not want said Fossil as placing one more object in my small living space would cause whatever fearful implosion/explosion catastrophic event due to critical mass having been met and exceeded, and since I happen to know your Dad DOES want the FF and his own High Holy Week is coming up soon...give it to him! I am pretty sure you've already gotten him the B'Day gift I was going to give him so give him the Fossil with a B'Day card on it from me! Solved!!!
P.S. If Janet really wants to know the contents of my bedside cosmeceutical cauldron, er, salad bowl, I will be glad to either email her with the list (plus my product ratings) or it could be answered on the "Ask the Parents" Forum that never happened and may not exist.
Aw, you are an old fossil. A 36 year old fossil. Now give me my pokey, mon! I really wish I could send you those Hannah Montana thank you notes too.
Felice cumpli año you cute fossil you!
What is this, the JENKINS FAMILY CIRCUS act?!!
Here I am in Greece, reading Petunia Face ('cause I love my sister and wanted to wish her a public HAPPY BIRTHDAY) and then THIS post happens; what with 30 some-odd comments and the on-going "Jenkins Family" comedy routine.
So, my simple birthday greeting is shot to hell.
What to do?
Ok. re-group.
MY birthday present to EVERYONE else HERE (note all the CAPS for drama) from me on behalf of Susannah:
"Petunia Nugget (aka, factoid o' fun)"
Did you know...
FACT: Susannah used to flat out LIE and tell everyone her name was "Heidi." Yep. As in yodelling from the mountain-tops "Heidi"...then it was "Penny" from some Disney movie called "The Rescuers."
We're not just talking a cute little child's game.
Nooo.
She went the distance.
Susannah, aka "Heidi" aka "Penny," publicly introduced herself to total strangers as her alias of the year.
She actually told her new 4th grade teacher her name was "Heidi." First day. Roll call. "... Susannah Jenkins..."
No perfunctory, "Here." Just a simple authoritative correction: "My name is Heidi."
True dat.
In fact, it became so "true" that she got a name-plate for her bedroom door that read "Heidi" or "Penny" or whoever she was at the time.
Now, this is not a roast.
There is a moral to this story. My birthday gift to my sis.
The moral of the story is simply this:
"A lie is not a lie if you BELIEVE it." -George Costanza
Susannah, you ARE 25. Thankyouverymuch.
Happy fucking Birthday!
Love, your brother,
Sting
Wow. Forty comments! Sorta like FORTY candles on a birthday cake! And one to grow on, makes FORTY ONE ..... not so far off ....
SAME ADDRESS
Okay, My birthday story, picture it on a greeting card with butterflies and flowers, # 42. The year I was born. .... I also celebrate December 7, The Bombing of Pearl Harbor, " A day that will live in infamy."
On that day, I was "quickie" before my father, an army officer, was sent to a horrible war in The Phillipines. I never did meet the son of a bitch 'til I was about three years old. .... been down hill ever since. ....
.... with sort of a mauve wash, flowers and butterflies.
Whadiya think, Susannah? It could sell.
awwww, Gumby and friends .. I used to watch it when I was growing up. The horse, porky, was my favorite character .. don't remember why but he was.
Hey Penny Heidi--When are you going to corral your family and write a book together. I am enjoying their comments as much as your posts!
Xo
Ro
I try to tiptoe in late at night, keeping my cheetos bag from crinkling because I know my sweet Sus, aka Heidi, aka Penny goes to bed early...can I sneak in one more comment without waking her? She's a light sleeper and, as she says, sort of hyper-vigilant. So far, so good.
Here it is late Day Two of Sus' High Holy Week-in a little over an hour we enter Day One of HEJ's own High Holy Days. He's still trying for the Fossil...and now a book deal as well.
Number One Son, Sting, has even checked in from the Greek Isles which we know is a comment on his sibling love and not his Honeymoon! Love you like a Rock, Andy Boy. Great advice from the Big Book of Seinfeld and your own sweet self! Love and kisses to Morgan, at least that's what we call her since Trudie sort of interferes with staying on the down low. Remember how embarrased we were during the uber-snobby Maine Chance tour with Grandma Do when Susannah introduced herself to the legendary whip-cracker Manager of a million years as Heidi? You kept tugging on my skirt and whispering, "Mommy, her name isn't Heidi. Tell her!" but too much time had passed with Ms. Head Snot commenting on how cute our little Heidi looked in her actual Heidi-type dress to correct her?
And nameplate on the door was a ceramic, handpainted "Penny" we bought in the English countryside. Just one more dysfunctional mothering example of many on my part. Penny from the "Rescuers" followed Heidi of the book and movie. As soon as her Heidi dress no longer fit, Penny appeared. I think it was Penny who answered rollcall at school. At least that's what the note for Parent/Child counseling said.
Stories, we got a gazillion of them...but doesn't every family? Don't they ? We aren't weird or anything, right?
My present to you Susannah is that I WILL NOT, even under duress, ever tell a few of the stories about you-no matter how cute I think they are. A team of wild horses couldn't pull them out.
And, Rosalie, unfortunately we found out long ago that we couldn't organize this family enough for a family meeting, so while I am certainly flattered by your book comment, probably isn't gonna happen.
One of the unexpected perks of PF blog seems to be that, as a family, we communicate more here than anywhere else....thanks to the hard work and diligence of our family blogger (not to mention her humiliation at times I'm sure).
Happy, Happy Birthday my beloved family Virgos.
Happy Belated Birthday!
Bitch, you are younger than Jennifer Aniston, JLo and ME (by one teeny tiny year). Happy Birthday!
Happy Birthday you beautiful thing!
YOU are not old because then that would make ME old at 38.
And I AM NOT!
I was reading the comments on Black Hockey Jesus's 100th post. I saw your picture, thought you were hot, clicked your link. Then I found out you think you're old!
So, take it from me, some random guy in the interwebs, you are young and pretty. In fact, if I saw you in the mall, I would turn my head and say "dayyyyum."
Happy belated birthday!
fuck it!
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